


Monkey

by ChimaeraKitten



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Cookies, Gen, No editing we die like mne, dad jokes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-25
Updated: 2018-01-25
Packaged: 2019-03-09 03:19:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 570
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13472610
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChimaeraKitten/pseuds/ChimaeraKitten
Summary: Dick has a new shirt.





	Monkey

**Author's Note:**

> this is kinda a combo gift for Toni, Dawn, Cam, Audrey, and Jersey. because everyone's had a tough week and the boys might make it a bit better.

“How do I look?”

Bruce looked up from his paperwork. “With your eyes, Dick.”  
Dick blew out a puff of air. “Bruuuuuuuuce. Do I look good or noooot?”

Bruce stood up, rounding the desk. “Well I’d say—“ He stepped closer to Dick. “—That you look nice—“ He stepped behind Dick in the guise of seeing how his new shirt looked from the back. “—But your hair needs work.” He ruffled Dicks hair as much as he could on the last word.

Dick jumped away, disgusted. “Bruuuuuce nooooo. I spent ten minutes on that!”

“Ten minutes on _that_?”

Dick scowled. “Why’ve you always gotta mess with my hair?”

“Primate social grooming behavior. It’s an evolutionary holdover.” Bruce said, completely deadpan.

“I’m not a _monkey_.”

Bruce raised n eyebrow. “Are you sure? Because I think—“ He leaned forward and in one fluid motion lifted Dick up and flipped him upside down so he was hanging by his ankles. The boy barely even had time to yelp. “—that anyone who spends as much time as you do upside down is automatically a monkey.”

Dick wiggled to no avail. Bruce’s grip was too strong. His new shirt was hanging around his shoulders, exposing his stomach. “Lemme go!”

Bruce shook him a little, causing the shirt to slip even farther. “Not until you admit you need to tuck in your shirts.”

“Bruce _no_ ,” Dick said, trying to push his shirt back up. “That makes me look like a dweeb.”

“Dweeb is batter than slob.”

“”m not a _slob_ —“

“The pile of laundry under your bed says differently, Master Dick.”

They both turned to look at Alfred standing in the doorway. Dick gave up on his shirt and let his arms dangle by his ears. “I was _going_ to clean it up.”

“As you have been for the past week, I’m sure.”

Dick harrumphed and tried to cross his arms but got tangled in his shirt. “I just hadn’t got to it yet!”

Alfred pursed his lips, likely suppressing a laugh at Dick’s indignant and now reddening face. “Be that as it may, I came to inform you two that there are cookies ready in the kitchen.” Alfred turned around and primly left the room, though Bruce could see the slight smile on his face before he was out of sight.

“Cookies, huh?” Bruce said, “Be a shame if one of us were to eat them all.” He looked down at Dick, noting the fierce look in his eye, and then without warning swung him around and tossed him on the study’s couch and sprinted for the door.

Dick was up in a flash, and Bruce hadn’t even reached the staircase before he heard the soft patter of running feet and then felt hands on his shoulders. Dick flipped right over him and landed facing Bruce. He stuck out his tongue and before leaping for the bannister and riding it down the stairs.

Bruce, being at least a somewhat reasonable adult, took the safer way down.

By the time he reached the kitchen, Dick was perched on top of the refrigerator, cookie jar clutched tight to his chest. As Bruce watched, two cookies disappeared in a series of small, rapid bites.

Dick looked up from his third cookie and grinned. “Who’s a monkey now?”

“You may be a monkey,” Bruce said, crossing his arms, “but you won’t be a robin tonight if you don’t share.”

“Spoilsport.”


End file.
